


Winging It

by heyjupiter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19871464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: Although Bruce is excited to start college and learn more about the human world, the pressures of keeping his biggest secret safe on campus turn out to be greater than he'd anticipated. But when Bruce reveals his half-Fae nature to save his mysterious friend Tony from a bit of late night trouble, the two discover that they have more in common than they'd thought.





	Winging It

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Science Bros Week Day #5, "Pressure" and also for the "urban fantasy" square on my [Bruce Banner Bingo card](https://twentyghosts.tumblr.com/brucebingo).
> 
> The mythos for this AU is a mashup containing approximately 60% True Blood, 30% Holly Black, 5% Sarah J. Maas, and 5% miscellaneous. My intent is that you don't need to be familiar with any of those sources to read this; I put all the paranormal details you need to know into the text. However, if you are a diehard True Blood enthusiast, you may be annoyed by the ways this veers off from True Blood. Perhaps you will forgive me if I present you with [this article about how Holly Black got plastic surgery to give herself permanent elf ears](https://www.bostonglobe.com/lifestyle/names/2017/05/31/amherst-author-now-has-actual-elf-ears/eGzAGYSfjtLAdabb8lddoI/story.html)? I just feel like not enough people know that Holly Black has permanent elf ears.
> 
> Thanks very much to volunteerfd for beta reading and helping me make sense of this weird magical melange!
> 
> See end notes for mildly spoilery warnings for this story's content! (Non-spoilery warning: this fic is less graphic than an episode of True Blood but more graphic than the fluff I normally write.)

Bruce never should have even _thought_ about college. It's not that he's not smart enough--he's always been clever, and his freshman-level classes here at Louisiana State University are disappointingly easy. But being around so many people all the time makes it so hard to keep his Fae nature hidden. It takes concentration to hold the glamour, to keep humans from seeing his pointed ears and the wings that he usually keeps tucked tight against his back. It takes more concentration still to focus his empathic abilities, to keep himself shielded tightly from the emotions of everyone around him. 

Finals week is hell for him. Not because of his own exams, but because he can feel the pressure of everyone else's stress weighing down on him. He should really move back home and transfer to an online program. It would be safest for everyone, and he's sure he could still learn a lot that way.

But there are a few things keeping him at LSU. Bruce likes most of his professors, although he can sense a weary impatience in most of them during classes; that usually fades when he stops by their office hours. Bruce can't blame them for being weary when so many of his classmates don't even bother to do the reading. Bruce loves his assigned readings. He loves that there are so many different ways to see the world. He supposes he could find most of these books and articles at the library back home, but he appreciates having his readings curated for him and having people with whom to talk about new ideas. Even if the class discussions tend to end up being between only himself and the professor. 

Bruce also really likes his student job. He lucked into the night shift at the front desk of the School of Veterinary Medicine's library. The vet med library is smaller than the main campus library, more specialized. But it's open 24 hours, Sunday-Thursday, even though Bruce has little to do on his shifts. Students rarely want to check out books overnight. There are a handful of late night study groups who meet there, but they’re usually quiet, and they never approach Bruce’s desk. In fact, most nights, there's only one student who talks to Bruce. His name is Tony, and he's the biggest reason Bruce can think of to stay on campus.

Tony is beautiful. Almost impossibly handsome, but not in the uncanny way that glamoured Fae are. He has creamy skin and the deepest brown eyes Bruce has ever seen, almost black. He wears an old-fashioned goatee that not many college students could pull off, but Tony definitely can. He always dresses sharply in black, sometimes with a blood-red accent like a tie or pocket square. He's kind and funny and charming. And _so_ smart--no matter what Bruce is reading or working on at the desk, Tony always seems to know a ton about it, whether it's gender politics in the Middle Ages or differential equations.

Best of all, Tony's aura is _quiet_. Bruce could never pick up the slightest bit of empathic projections from him, not even when he tried. (He'd only tried a few times. He usually does his best to protect humans' emotional privacy, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him in Tony's case.) Sometimes he wondered how Tony kept such control over his emotions. Yoga, maybe? Drugs? Whatever the cause, the effect is that Tony's presence registers in Bruce's brain like a soothing balm. He's never met anyone else who made him feel like that--not other Fae or part-Fae (some of whom would literally kill for the ability to mentally cloak themselves so thoroughly); not his very chill human Tarot card reader friend Betty; not his mom’s boss Sam Merlotte when he's shifted to an animal form; not even his mother herself, who always radiates love for him.

Tony always sets himself up at the study carrel closest to the circulation desk, where Bruce sits and would check out books to students if they ever wanted one. Which they don't, not during his shifts, anyway. Sometimes Bruce answers the phone, usually to confirm that yes, the vet med library is really open 24 hours. But mostly he does his homework, scrolls mindlessly through the internet, and waits for Tony to come talk to him.

Tonight, the library is packed with students cramming for exams. Bruce is trying his best to block out their stress, but it's really getting to him. He massages his temples and focuses on his breathing.

Tony approaches Bruce's desk, but his gorgeous smile fades when he gets closer to Bruce. "Oh. Hey, Bruce, what's wrong?"

Bruce shakes his head and tries to force a smile. "Oh, just finals week stress."

Tony looks deeply concerned. "Have you eaten anything today? Do you need any painkillers?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Just should drink more water, probably."

"Yes. Hydration is important," Tony says solemnly. 

"Right," Bruce agrees, although technically his nutritional needs are less pressing than they are for full humans. He licks his lips and asks, "How are your exams going?"

"Oh, as expected. And yourself?"

Bruce thinks it would be rude to say _unbelievably easy_ so he says, "Just peachy."

Tony smiles. "You know, I've never asked what brought you to Louisiana."

Bruce's accent marks him as an outsider, though most people have no idea the full extent to which Bruce is really _not from around here_. "Oh, my mom got a job here and now I get in-state tuition, so." He shrugs. "What about you?" 

This is technically true, although it leaves out the part where Bruce's father was a member of the Fae Court who was briefly infatuated with Bruce's mother. Briar Bane spirited Rebecca Drake over to Faerie for a fling. It was unexpected when she became pregnant and even more unexpected when both mother and son survived childbirth. But Fae are known to be cruel and capricious beings who place little value on humans and their short mortal lives, so it was fairly unsurprising when his father started hurting Bruce and Rebecca. 

Time worked differently in Faerie, but when Bruce was eight human years old, his mother made a bargain to get herself and her son safe passage back to the human world. Bruce still wasn't sure exactly what it had cost her, but she'd never been the same after that. But she and Bruce were safe. They changed their names and moved to a small town in Louisiana that had quietly managed to become a safe haven for part-Fae in exile (there were no other half-Fae like Bruce, but there were a handful of people who still had enough Fae blood to have some abilities). The town's small population also included others who somehow didn't quite fit in their assigned magical communities, stray shifters and covenless witches and the like. 

His childhood in Bon Temps had been peaceful. His mom had gotten a job as a waitress, and Sam Merlotte, the owner of the restaurant, had always been good to her, made sure her schedule let her attend Bruce's school stuff and be there for him when he needed it. (Because of his gifts, Bruce knew for a fact that Sam had loved Rebecca for years and was too shy to say anything about it. He knew, too, that his mother knew, and was afraid. He didn’t know what to do about it. His gifts only let him perceive emotions, not manipulate them. His mother would have to resolve her fear on her own somehow. Bruce had hoped that maybe his absence would give their romance room to grow; his mother deserved to be happy.)

Generally speaking, everyone in Bon Temps had looked the other way if Bruce accidentally dropped his glamour or seemed to know something he shouldn't have, though some people were touchier about it than others. It was a pleasant place to live, certainly compared to the Fae Court, where Bruce had always had to think three times before accepting even the smallest gift or compliment from anyone, to make sure it didn't have any unpleasant strings attached. Even when his father wasn't around, Bruce had still had to keep a wary eye on the full-blooded Fae children who were nominally his friends; their games could turn from playful to cruel in the blink of an eye. In Bon Temps, Bruce had been able to let down his guard, to daydream without fear. Even if he sometimes missed the sheer beauty of life in Faerie, he'd felt safe in Bon Temps.

But Bruce had always been curious, and he knew he wanted more out of life than he could get in Bon Temps. But maybe Baton Rouge is too much for him. Or maybe Baton Rouge would be okay if only he weren't surrounded by temperamental college students all the time. He'd gone from a town with a population of two thousand to a university with over ten times that many students, and all of their emotions pressed on him. 

"Bruce?" Tony asks. His tone implies that it isn't the first time he'd asked.

"Oh. Sorry, I guess I was spacing out," Bruce says with a smile and a head-shake. He needs to focus. He can't drop his fucking glamour in the middle of the library. Half-Fae are only allowed to stay in the mortal realm if they keep a low profile, and he's not in Bon Temps anymore. If word got back to the Court about him...well, it doesn't bear thinking about. Bruce knows he couldn't bear to return to Faerie, not while Briar Bane still sits on the Court.

"Hmm. Well, I'll let you get back to work," Tony says. He gives Bruce a killer smile and saunters out of the library. Sometimes Bruce thinks Tony might be flirting with him, but Bruce knows it's wishful thinking. Most Fae use their glamour not just to hide, but also to enhance, making themselves appear spectacularly gorgeous. Bruce just covers his ears and wings (as a precaution, even though they're usually also covered by his longish curly hair and his shirts, respectively) without making any other changes. He's nothing special to look at. Not like Tony.

Bruce rubs his forehead and looks back at his computer. He's looking at the spring semester course catalog, trying to decide if he should register for any classes. He has until January 22nd to decide. His mom says she'll support him no matter what, but even though he’s too far away to sense her emotions, he knows she'd love for him to come home to Bon Temps. She worries about him here in what she calls "the big city." She thinks growing up in Bon Temps has made him too trusting, too gentle. 

But Bruce still remembers what the Fae Court was like. He'll do what he needs to do to avoid them, but that doesn't mean he has to become them. He might be half-Fae, but he's also half-human. He never wants to think of himself as being above humans. He just...sometimes wishes that some of them could be a little quieter.

He's still undeclared, but if he stays, he’s thinking about pre-med. Or maybe sociology? Humans are so interesting. But really there are so many topics that capture Bruce’s curiosity. Physics, math--the natural laws that govern life on Earth are so different from those of Faerie. Bruce wants to learn _everything_. He’s scrolling through the religious studies course catalog offerings when he abruptly notices something out of the corner of his eye and realizes that Tony is standing in front of him. "Oh! Hi, sorry, I...didn't hear you."

"You looked lost in thought, I didn't want to interrupt," Tony replies with a fond smile. "But I thought you could use some sustenance." 

Bruce follows Tony's gaze down to the service desk and sees that Tony has brought him coffee and a jelly-filled doughnut. Like most Fae, Bruce has a terrible sweet tooth. Tony has somehow picked up on this, perhaps from watching Bruce demolish the candy bowl at the desk that was supposed to be for students on Hallowe'en. Now Tony not-infrequently plies Bruce with small gifts of pastries and sweets. Bruce had had to fight his wariness at first--a gift of food from a Fae is never to be trusted, but humans give each other food all the time with no consequence. Tony, particularly, seems to give for the simple joy of giving.

The doughnut is beautiful, perfectly glazed and leaking a bit of raspberry ooze. Bruce practically swoons at the gesture. "Thank you!" He takes a huge bite, angled away from the computer keyboard. Belatedly, he notices that Tony is now empty-handed. "Here, do you want half?" he asks, his mouth full of jam.

"No thanks, I ate already, before I walked back. It's all yours."

"Oh. Well. Thanks again, you're a lifesaver." Bruce devours the doughnut. He licks jelly off half of his fingers before realizing that Tony is still standing there; suddenly self-conscious, he discreetly wipes his hands on his socks.

Thankfully, Tony doesn't comment on that. Instead he asks, "Are you taking a religious studies class next semester?"

"Hmm? Oh." Bruce realizes that, as he often does, Tony is leaning in to see his computer monitor. The browser is still open to the course catalog. "I don't know. Maybe. It seems really interesting but I can’t decide. What are you taking next semester?"

"Oh. I haven't decided yet either," Tony replies, which is unusual. They technically have until the January cutoff, but most students who are enrolled for the fall semester have already registered for their spring classes. Bruce feels a twinge of panic that Tony might be transferring out, to a better school maybe, one far away from here. But then Tony smiles and says, "Let me know if you find anything good. I'm always looking for interesting gen eds."

"Will do." Bruce thinks how nice it would be to take a class with Tony. To see him outside of the library. They could walk to class together...walk out of class together...get drinks together...before Bruce can get too swept up in a daydream, he manages to say, "Uh, thanks again for the doughnut."

"My pleasure," Tony says with a wink. Bruce wills his glamour to hide his blush until Tony returns to his study carrel for the rest of the night. When 3 AM rolls around and Bruce signs out at the end of his shift, he tries to drop by and say good night to Tony, to thank him again. But his carrel is empty. Tony must have slipped out without Bruce noticing. He buries his disappointment and sets out on his short walk home.

Some Fae have the gift of the Second Sight. Bruce doesn't, but he has keen vision and he's always liked to look at the stars, and maybe that's why he sees a figure standing on the roof of the veterinary science building, practically glowing in the light of the full moon. Or maybe it was just meant to be.

It takes Bruce a fraction of a second to realize that it's Tony on the roof, standing precariously close to the edge, and then he stops thinking consciously. The idea of going on without Tony strips Bruce of all rational thought and pure Fae instincts take over. The hard edges of his wings shred the thin cotton of his shirt as they emerge from his back, he's airborne and wildly casting his glamour to convince anyone who might be in the vicinity that he's a bird. 

He's out of practice with flight, and he's not delicate when he catches Tony. In fact, it’s less of a catch and more of a tackle. He ends up on top of Tony, a full ten feet back from the roof's edge. But Tony's safe. Tony's here. Tony's looking up at him with wonder in his dark eyes.

"Bruce? How did you get up here?"

"I...Tony, what...were you going to...jump? Are you okay?" Now that Bruce can think more clearly, he realizes that the building is only five stories tall; Tony probably wouldn't have died. But he could have been badly hurt. Bruce couldn't have done _nothing_. 

"I was just admiring the view." Tony is still pinned under Bruce's body, lying flat on the roof, and he reaches an arm up to hesitantly stroke one of Bruce's wings. Bruce freezes. It's so intimate to have his wings touched. He should really retract them immediately, but it feels so good...He's at least glamouring them so Tony can't see them, but if Tony kept touching them and realized what he was feeling...it would make it much harder for the glamour to hold. Bruce's wings are like a dragonfly's, but larger and more durable. They look and feel like glass, shiny and bottle-green, like Bruce's eyes. They would not be easily mistaken for flesh.

"Bruce…" Tony says. He sounds confused, and Bruce is sure he's about to ask about the wings. Instead, he says, "Fuck, you smell _so good_."

"Oh. Um. Thank you?" No one has ever commented on Bruce's smell before; he doesn't wear any cologne, just unscented anti-perspirant. Still, it's nice that Tony likes it. Bruce finally forces himself to stop daydreaming and sit up and retract his wings back into his back. His shirt is still ruined, though, which might be difficult to explain, given that Tony was the one who had been knocked onto his back. "Sorry...sorry for surprising you. I--it really looked like you were going to jump. I...are you okay? I mean, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to push you so hard."

Tony sits up too, facing Bruce. He nods and stretches his arms out. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"I'm glad."

Tony licks his lips. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Y-yeah, of course."

"I _was_ going to jump. I do it all the time...late at night, when no one's around, just for the adrenaline rush."

"What?" Bruce asks with alarm. "That's really dangerous." Had Tony’s emotional blank spot been masking suicidal thoughts all this time? But he’d never seen Tony with a physical injury.

"Not for me. I...I hoped you'd see. I've been wanting to tell you...I've been keeping something from you. The truth is, I am...a vampire."

Bruce forces a small laugh, but Tony looks serious. "Oh." Is Tony really a vampire? Bruce isn't sure why he's so surprised that vampires are real, not with all the weird stuff he's seen, with the weird stuff he _is_. But he's never met one, or even heard of one outside of fiction. He considers how pale Tony is, how beautiful, how well-read. How Bruce has _only_ ever seen him in the library at night. 

"Bruce?" Tony prompts.

"Oh. Is. Um. Are you going to, um, drink my blood? Or do you drink animal blood? Ohh, is that why you're in veterinary medicine? For the animal blood?"

Tony laughs. "Actually, I make my own synthetic blood. You don't have to worry about that."

"Oh! This must be why I can't read your mind!" Bruce blurts out.

"What?" Now Tony looks thrown.

"I mean I…" Bruce sighs. "I can read minds. Emotions, really. But not yours. I, um." Bruce is actually relieved to tell Tony. To show him. He drops his glamour, lets his ears form delicate points and his wings rise above his shoulders to frame his face.

Tony's eyes widen. "You're Fae. That's why...oh my god. Put those away!" he snaps.

"Oh. Okay." Bruce's shoulders slump. He hides his ears, retracts his wings, and crosses his arms over his chest defensively. For a fleeting second he'd thought maybe there really could be something between him and Tony, but Tony seems horrified by Bruce. It's true that Bruce isn't what you'd expect from a Fae. He lacks their elegance. His wings are plain by Fae standards, but Bruce had always liked them anyway; they're strong and sturdy enough to lift his half-human frame. Tony must have expected something sparklier, more graceful.

Perhaps reading the dejection on Bruce's face, Tony reaches out to cup Bruce's cheek in his cold hand. Urgently, he says, "No, I'm sorry, Bruce--they're beautiful. It's just--it's not safe for you. No one else here knows, do they?"

"N-no, I mean I haven't told anyone else...just you. We're...the Fae Court doesn't like for mortals to know about us. There would be...consequences. B-but I thought if you were a vampire, then…well, you're not mortal, and...well, then vampires can't be bad. Not if you're one."

Tony shakes his head. "Bruce, you're so sweet. But no...you absolutely can't tell any other vampires, okay? Promise me. You can't tell anyone. You don't know the kind of danger you're in."

"I know how to keep a secret. I've been staying clear of the Fae Court."

"The wrath of the Fae Court would be nothing compared to what some other vampires might do to you."

From his face and tone of voice, Bruce understands that Tony is worried, but he can't _feel_ any of Tony's fear. And since the top few floors of the building are currently unoccupied, Bruce can't feel anything from anyone except himself. It's peaceful.

Tony says, "Bruce?"

"Oh. Sorry. Are there...a lot of vampires at LSU?"

"A few dozen, probably. Not nearly as many as there are in New Orleans, but...enough."

Picking up on Tony's grim tone, Bruce asks, "The others don't drink synthetic blood, do they?"

"A few of them do, but most...prefer fresh. But Bruce, if they knew about _you_ …or god forbid, if my maker found out..." Tony trails off and shakes his head.

"What about me?"

"Well...Fae blood is supposed to be delicious, for one." Bruce remembers Tony commenting on his smell and swallows hard. "But also...well, the legend says that if vampires drink Fae blood, then...it gives us the ability to daywalk," Tony says reverently. 

"So it's really true that vampires can't go out in the sun?" Bruce shivers a little at the thought, and at his bare back. December in Louisiana isn't as cold as it gets some places, but it's still brisk up on the rooftop. Mostly, though, Bruce can't imagine going so many decades without feeling sunshine on his skin. He loves to lie out in the sun, reading or just napping, and he has the tanned skin and freckles to show for it.

Tony notices Bruce's shiver and drapes his black leather jacket over Bruce's shoulders. "It's really true," he confirms. "None of the Fae told you anything about vampires? They didn't warn you?"

"I left Faerie when I was young...we...my family isn't on good terms with the Fae Court." He squirms and slips his arms through the sleeves of Tony's jacket. "What about you? Do you have a family? Uh, your maker, I guess? How old are you?"

"I was twenty when I was turned. In 1944. Shrapnel would have killed me, but...it didn't get the chance," he replies with a lopsided smile.

Bruce notices that Tony doesn't answer the question about his family. Impulsively, Bruce reaches out and grabs Tony's hand. It's like ice, but the contact is still reassuring. "If you drank my blood, would it make me a vampire? Would it kill me?"

"Not typically," Tony says cautiously. "To turn another vampire is more than just to drink, there is...a ritual involved. And to drain a victim to the point of death is...unnecessary. It's rarely done."

"Then...then here." Bruce kneels up and tips his head back, offering his throat to Tony. He's seen _Dracula_ , he knows how this goes. "You can have some. If it'll let you see the sun again. I...I don't mind."

Tony gasps. He leans in close, brings his cold hands to cradle Bruce's face, his mouth to Bruce's throat. He kisses Bruce's throat, licks him, moans. Bruce's pulse races with anticipation. Fae are tactile, pleasure-seeking creatures by nature. Bruce has been touch-starved since he got to college, terrified that if he got too close to anyone, he'd let his secret slip. But now he doesn't have to worry about that. Now he can just enjoy the feeling of Tony's arms holding him, Tony's mouth on him...

Bruce feels the barest scrape of teeth against his skin and he moans, eager to feel this new sensation. He wonders if it will hurt; he knows it will be worth it. 

But then Tony pulls back. He sits up and scrambles away from Bruce without taking so much as a sip of Bruce's blood. Bruce leans forward again to look Tony in the eye, his head tilted curiously. He can see Tony's fangs peek over his lips as he says, "No. No. Thank you, but you...you don't know what you're offering."

"You said it wouldn't kill me or turn me into a vampire."

"It's just...it's very intimate, to drink from someone," Tony says, suddenly prim. His fangs retreat back into his teeth.

"Oh. So...you wouldn't drink from me until our third date?" Bruce asks playfully.

Tony drops his gaze. "Bruce, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't...I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Tony. No. You're not. You...you're the only reason I've stayed here as long as I have. You...you're so..." 

Bruce sighs and gazes at Tony, who looks even more ethereally beautiful in the moonlight. He closes the gap Tony has placed between them, leaning forward and hesitantly kissing Tony on the mouth. His lips are cold against Bruce's, and it's odd at first, but Tony lets out a little moan and Bruce is hot enough for the both of them. Tony kisses back with such intensity that it literally knocks Bruce to his back, Tony's jacket protecting Bruce's wings from the concrete roof. Tony straddles him and presses his torso against Bruce's, pinning him down, kissing him so hard he thinks they might just crash through the roof. They grind their bodies together. Tony slips a hand between them, into Bruce's pants, gently stroking his dick through his boxers. The thin layer of cotton protects him from the full coldness of Tony's hand. The sensation is amazing. 

"Tony," Bruce gasps. He's a little afraid this is a daydream; he's always had such an active imagination.

"You're so beautiful," Tony murmurs, while making Bruce feel unspeakably good. "I don't need to see the sun, not if I have you."

Bruce lets out a strangled sound. Even he couldn't imagine a line like that. "Tony, I--I--"

"Mm-hmm," Tony says encouragingly, pressing harder, faster, until Bruce comes in his boxers, against Tony's hand. Tony hums his approval and pulls his hand out of Bruce's pants. Bruce reaches his own hand up to reciprocate, and even though Bruce can feel that he's hard too, Tony grabs his wrist and says, "No--not now."

"When?" Bruce asks eagerly.

Tony presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Will you stay the night with me, Bruce? At my home? We can discuss matters without the threat of the sunrise." Bruce hesitates for a split second, just thinking about logistics, and Tony says, "Please, Bruce? I...I want to ensure your safety."

"I...sure," Bruce says, dazed. He barely ever talks to his roommate, whose primary emotional status is "horny" (not that Bruce has room to judge). Surely he won't notice or care if Bruce doesn't come home tonight. It's not like his roommate hasn't done the same, plenty of times this semester. And Bruce doesn't have another exam until Friday.

Tony smiles, kisses him again. "Good. Let's be on our way, then."

They take the stairs down and get into Tony's sleek sports car. Sleepily, Bruce says, "Hey. If you're making synthetic blood, why don't you synthesize my blood? Then you could go outside in the daytime."

"I admit, I started to consider that, after you made your generous offer. I'm not sure it would be possible, and if it were...there would be repercussions," Tony says slowly. 

"But we could try?" Bruce asks. "I'll give you as much as you need. I heal quickly...and I'd like to help."

"It's not a decision to be made lightly. Oh, Bruce, there's so much you don't know about vampires."

"So teach me."

"I look forward to it," Tony says, his voice almost a purr.

Bruce gives a little shiver at the innuendo, but he persists with his serious questions. He really does want to learn about vampires. "Can you fly?" 

"No. Not like you can, anyway. We can jump very high and run very fast. We’re...let’s say durable." 

"So you can’t turn into a bat or anything?" 

"No. But I do have my private pilot’s license." 

"That’s impressive. I’m an unlicensed flier, myself. Have you met any other Fae before?" 

"I didn’t even realize that’s what you were until tonight...I knew you were special, but I had no idea. But no, any Fae with a lick of sense would know to stay far, far away from my kind."

"Oh. Then I’m glad I don’t have any."

Tony laughs as they pull into a long driveway. An automated wrought iron gate (the sight of which makes Bruce's skin crawl, but they're not close enough for it the metal to affect him) swings open, letting Tony pull into a pristine, state-of-the-art garage. He lives alone, in a beautiful off-campus house. He leads Bruce through a gorgeous entryway downstairs to his ornately furnished, dimly-lit basement bedroom, easily five times the size of the dorm room Bruce shares with an econ major from Shreveport. Bruce reluctantly returns Tony's leather jacket, and Tony genteelly offers him a change of clothes and use of his bathroom. Bruce's sticky boxers and shredded shirt serve as visual proof that this is really happening, that their rooftop tryst hadn't just been a fantasy. After he's cleaned himself and changed into a pair of soft silk pants, Bruce realizes Tony forgot to give him a shirt.

He crosses his arms over his chest and shyly steps back into the bedroom, his wings tucked tightly against his back. He feels ultra-body conscious, aware of his stupid tan line from always keeping his shirt on in public. Then there's the fact that he's been pressed up against Tony's torso and felt his rock hard abs through his shirt, a delicious feature that Bruce definitely does not possess. Not to mention the vehement way Tony had reacted the first time he'd seen Bruce's wings, even if he'd apologized after.

Softly, Tony asks, "Could I see them again?"

"What?"

"Your wings...I...they're so lovely, but I was just afraid for you, out in the open. Someone could have seen. But we're safe here."

Bruce smiles and spreads his wings. "You weren't afraid for yourself, jumping off the roof of the vet med building? Anyway, they were glamoured to anyone else's eyes." He manages to leave off saying, " _I'm pretty sure._ "

Tony, still fully dressed in his dark jeans and black long-sleeved T-shirt, steps closer and lightly traces a wing with his finger. He looks at Bruce with awe. "You're so beautiful."

This time, Bruce doesn't cover his blush with glamour. Tony brings his hand up to trace Bruce's pink cheeks. Bruce shivers and says, "I--I'm only half-Fae, you know. Full Fae usually have prettier wings than mine."

"I doubt that," Tony murmurs. "Are you cold? I could give you a shirt. I was being selfish to not offer before. I'm usually a better host than that, but I wanted to look at you." 

"No. No, not cold. It's...it's nice, actually. Not to be covered up." He flutters his wings a bit, just because he can.

Tony gives Bruce a gentle kiss and strokes his wings one more time. Then he takes him by the hand and tucks Bruce into bed, like a child. He pulls the down duvet up to Bruce's chin and asks, "Will you be warm enough? I'm afraid I'm not the best judge of temperature."

"I'm fine, but...you're not staying?" Bruce asks. It comes out whinier than he had meant, and Tony gives him an indulgent smile.

"I have a few things I must attend to before the sun comes up. I'll be down shortly. But you're very tired, I know," Tony says. He strokes Bruce's hair and kisses his forehead. "Sleep well."

Bruce yawns. "Okay. But hurry, please." He supposes he's being greedy, but after the evening they've had, he wants to fall asleep with Tony.

Still smiling, Tony says, "We have all the time in the world." Bruce loves the sound of that, even if it isn't quite true. As a half-Fae, Bruce isn't immortal like a vampire (he assumes? He forgot to ask about that one), but without interference he'll live much longer than a human. Still: he'll have time with Tony. Time when Bruce isn't at work, even. Time in bed.

Bruce smiles to himself and stretches out in Tony's luxurious bed. He's used to the twin bed in his dorm room, to hiding his wings from his roommate. Now he rolls over onto his stomach. He buries his face in a veritable cloud of pillows, pushes the blankets down to his waist, and lets his wings splay open, the way he used to sleep when he was a kid.

He wants to wait up for Tony, but Tony was right, he _is_ tired, spent in every sense of the word. It's very late, even for Bruce's quasi-nocturnal schedule. He's used so much mental energy just getting through the day, through the week, surviving his classmates' end-of-semester emotions. It's been hard for him to sleep in the dorms this week, but he feels relaxed here in this ridiculously comfortable bed, the most relaxed he's felt since he left Bon Temps. Bruce quickly falls asleep, thinking about how the world is bigger and weirder than even he had imagined, and how much better it will be to have Tony by his side to face it.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for a scene that is briefly misunderstood to be a suicide attempt but, due to supernatural abilities, is not actually that. Also warnings for general vampire content, if that's not obvious from the tags. Also there are some vague mentions of past child abuse, but that's just Bruce Banner for you.


End file.
